


Choke This Love

by Patchouli (lifelesslyndsey)



Series: Brothers Grim [3]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Derek Hale is a Christmas Baby, Frottage, Klaus pov, M/M, Power Play, Pre Diego/Klaus, Voyeurism, adoptive incest, no beta we die like men, that really is the best tag, virgin ben
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-18 05:12:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18113969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifelesslyndsey/pseuds/Patchouli
Summary: Maybe it’s nature, maybe it’s nurture (maybe it’s something about the backward way the world spat them out before their father chewed them up) but like calls to like.





	Choke This Love

**Author's Note:**

> Writing Klaus is fun. I love a squirrely, weaselly little Klaus but I'm trying something different here, while maintaining his canon. Let me know how I'm doing. 
> 
>    
> Klaus POV  
>  
> 
> title is from River by Bishop Briggs
> 
> choke this love till the veins start to shiver  
> One last breath till the tears start to wither  
> Like a river, like a river  
> Shut your mouth and run me like a river

Klaus wouldn’t exactly call himself the King of Weird. First off, were he any royalty at all, it would be Queen of Weird, but that's not the point. .

 

He gets freaked out, though. Like any normal person. You know - any normal person who can see ghosts. It wouldn’t be so bad except ghosts are fucking irrational, emotion-driven creatures with limited cognitive ability, most of the time. The only time they’d ever been even remotely tolerable is when he himself became an irrational, emotion-driven creature with limited cognitive ability, usually with the aid of drugs, good sex, or blunt force trauma.

 

 _That’s_ right. You think sniffing coke out of an ass crack is a low way to lose a ghost - try smashing your face into a kitchen counter just to make them _stop fucking talking._ Sniffing coke out of an ass crack was a good time in comparison.  Not in comparison too, but he’s not suppose to admit that anymore. He’s suppose to look back on his drug use with zero fondness and no regrets.  Which is a crying fucking shame, because that kills like eight out of ten of his best party stories. Boo.

 

It’s whatever. The ghosts are quieter now. They’re afraid of him now. Klaus couldn’t tell you why, but Ben could.  There’s something about him, so says his ghostly brother. Something big and frightening, something scary. Klaus can’t really sense it in himself, but Ben wouldn’t lie and the ghosts don’t scream at him anymore. They loiter always at the edge of his vision, but they don't scream. One day - One day Klaus thinks he’ll be ready to talk to them. Help them, the way he’s probably supposed too. Not today though. Not yet.

 

“Are you really certain this is necessary?”

 

Klaus would take offense at the question, really he would, except Ben’s fluttering in and out like he can’t even keep himself whole with Klaus’ hands on him, and really - what’s to be offended about? Ben knows how flighty Klaus can be, after all. It’s a legitimate question. But he is certain, and Ben is very, very compelling like this. Klaus is fairly certain he’s never done anything to make the world a better place, but he can say he’s made it a little prettier just for putting that flushed look on Ben’s face.

 

He isn’t even _doing_ anything. He’s got his body pressed against Ben, Ben pressed against a cold stone wall, and that’s enough.  Ben is just very easy, and it’s a novelty because Klaus? Klaus is not easy. Klaus is...difficult. Klaus is used. Ben is several years past his expiration date and still all fresh and fucking green. Ben gets hard when Klaus drinks suggestively through a straw. Klaus sometimes needs to be choked to come. Less lately, but then - he’s less numb.

 

Ben is squirmy, and solid beneath him. He’s every bit as lanky as Klaus, but stops short about three inches or so.  Klaus doesn’t hold him down, doesn’t pin his wrists like he might some bar floor fuck. Ben wouldn’t like it and Klaus has better things to do with his hands, like push them up Ben’s shirt to feel his belly jump beneath Klaus palms. He can feel the beasts that lay within and they writhe and purr when Klaus touches them here.

 

They _like_ Klaus. They want Klaus to open Ben up and set them _free_ . They want to play, they want _Klaus_ to play. They’d remind him of a puppy demanding walkies if they didn’t whisper in a language as old as Death itself, one that Klaus seems to know like a milk tongue.  They sound _good_ ; violent and dark and promising. They speak to the dark things inside of him, the dark things that also want to play. And so Klaus pets at them a lot because it’s dangerous and delicious and he has poor impulse controls when it comes to things that both feel good and can also hurt him.  

 

Ben hates it and craves it all at once and doesn’t yet know what it means to embrace both those feelings, doesn't yet know how. Klaus knows the signs. Maybe it’s nature, maybe it’s nurture (maybe it’s something about the backward way the world spat them out before their father chewed them up) but _like_ calls to _like_. Klaus can fucking smell the need to just submit on Ben, can taste it in the air around him. The Horror could never be controlled, but Ben could, can, wants too and Klaus knows what that feels like. It’s a hunger, maybe for a heavy hand, maybe for a hug. Klaus knows which way the wind is going to blow them eventually but Ben...Ben’s still too jittery to get past a hand job. So, not yet.

 

It’s okay. Klaus can be patient. For _family_. Certainly not for anyone else.

 

“It would be good for me,” Klaus tells him, which is very selfish but also true. “To---to---” Vanya suggested he replace the bad memories of his childhood with good ones. He’s been going going to therapy vicariously via Vanya and she’s got a few good ideas. “To re-establish what this place means to me.” He says it just as he gets his cock lined up with Ben's through all their mutual clothing. Timing really is key. Ben is really squirmy. 

 

“The mausoleum,” Ben manages to say, all breathy and virginal and already half-gone. It’s kind of hot, Klaus won’t lie. Ben looks _needy_ .  It’s _nice_ to be needed. Klaus isn’t in control of much in his life, frankly - but Ben? Mmm. Ben’s his _boy_. “Where our father use to lock you up? The focal point of all your childhood trauma?”

 

“Yes,” Klaus agrees very readily and he could be agreeing to anything, so he hopes whatever Ben asked is a question best answered with yes. “Seeing you come in your pants _right here_ is a way better memory than all the times I spent pissing mine.” He rolls his hips a little, feels the fight blow right out of Ben along with all air in his lungs. He’s _absolutely_ going to come in his pants and Klaus will probably not come at all and it’ll still be better than about 76% of the sex he can remember having. “C’mon,” he coos, soft and pretty and pleading. Ben kind of likes the trashy falsetto tone, the _wheedling_ one that walks a line between _coitish_ and _baby_ . “C’mon Benny. _C’mon, c’mon, c’mon._ ” He punctuates every syllable with a long, crushing roll of his hips. He’s hard, and riding up against his brother is really doing it for him. He won’t come - he’s a fucking _pro_ \- but he won’t stop until Ben’s knees give out. “Give it up, Benny. Lemme have it.” He nips at his jaw, too gentle to hurt and Ben makes a noise loud enough to wake the dead.

 

The dead, he will add, who are trying really hard to give them privacy while they commit pseudo-incest on their graves.  Nice of them. 

 

“ _F--f--fuck_.” He’s shamefaced and red cheeked as he closes his eyes tight. His fingers are curled into Klaus’ jacket, knuckles white with the force of it and he’s shaking so pretty, he’s trying _so_ hard. It’s a little game, one Ben doesn’t even know he’s playing, not really, not yet.  One hand flies loose from it’s death-grip on Klaus to slap, open-palmed, against the stone wall. “ _Shit_ .” He goes, very briefly, completely invisible - but Klaus can still feel him. Can feel the resistance of his body beneath his own as he comes so pretty, the bow of his body going perfectly taught.  Klaus kisses his mouth open, licks across his tongue, and revels in the absolute _deviance_ of the moment. He just made his baby brother _come_ in a fucking cemetery.

 

While his _other_ brother watches.

 

Klaus is a realist. He’s met God, after all.  Karma has blessed him this absolute wealth of little boys who don’t know what they want yet, who think Klaus has the answers. And maybe he does. Of course, they’re his brothers. God would salt a fucking cosmic favor with _that_ spice because God is a bit of a cunt. Whatever. He’ll fuck his brother. He’ll fuck _both_ his brothers. He’ll fuck _your_ brother, he doesn’t give a shit about it. Or about _God_ and God doesn’t give a shit about him and that copacetic relationship is working just fine.

 

Klaus is a _gift_.

 

He ignores Diego, where he creeps just out of sight, and returns his attention back to Ben who hasn’t quite checked back online, mentally. Diego will be addressed separately. Ben is still a little needy. “Five whole minutes, little buddy. New record.”

 

“Shut up,” Ben mutters, his eyes still closed but the mutinous tone in his voice is a known quantity and makes Klaus smile.

 

He lets Ben tremble a minute, come down, come back to himself. He touches Ben's face, softly, sweetly, because that’s what Ben needs right now when everything is still so _new_ and tender and sticky. Not just his dick, but these experiences themselves. Ben has watched all of the fucked up things Klaus has done in his life, but he’s never really _tasted_ them. He’s so _shiny-sparkly-fresh_ , Klaus feels...minded to keep him that way. Not virginal; Ben wouldn’t thank him and Klaus is patient now but he really just...wants to get up in that, really he truly does. He just wants everything to be _good_ , to feel good. He doesn’t want the world to turn Ben bitter, the way Death hadn’t even managed. He doesn’t ever want Ben to hunger for numbness, only for Klaus. He wants Ben to have all the things Klaus didn’t when he needed them most. He wants to take care of him, which is odd, in and of itself, because Klaus can barely take care of himself.

 

Sex though. Klaus is pretty good at that. He can give him that. 

 

Diego's in his car,  where it idles just outside the wrought iron gates. Klaus knew the gurtle-rumble-chuff-chuff of the engine very well now because his brother is a lurking lurker who lurks.  Klaus can feel it the second Ben notices, the wavering, watery way he shimmers in and out is a pretty solid tell. Sometimes Klaus can’t tell when other people can’t see him because he can almost always see him. He lets his hand slide to the back of Ben’s neck, and knows he must look like a fucking lunatic. “Fine. Go ahead and hide, you big baby.”

 

“I just came in my pants!” His voice is tight, that embarrassed edge bred specifically at sixteen. “I can’t talk to Diego when I just---” He makes a face and Klaus sort of wonders---where the come will go? Like, if he does his little cease-to-exist thing, will he come back clean? There’s a lot of intricacies to this ghost shit that even he doesn’t fully understand.

 

“You riding with us or you meeting me at the house?” Klaus asks, ruffling Ben’s hair a little before fixing his hood. Sometimes hiding in the shadows of his hood is enough for Ben. Sometimes not. “You want shotgun?”

 

“ _God no_.” 

 

“You want me to sit in back with you?” He usually does. It seems rude to make Ben sit in back all by himself. Plus, Diego can't hit him if he's in the back.  Klaus knows that Diego is just rough because he doesn't fully understand his desire to put his hands on Klaus and violence makes his poor wittle confused brain feel better. He'll solve that rubix cube when the time comes. Not today. Today - Ben. 

 

Ben hesitates. Thoughtful, as always - Ben thinks about every question he’s asked, before answering. Klaus wishes he had the mental power to be so considerate. He does not. “No,” Ben says, after a fashion. “No.”

 

“I’m gonna fuck with all his presets.” Mariachi music, NPR and Christian Rock. No...no. Christian Talk Radio. He'll press his thumbs into the bruises where Diego is sure to elbow him, later. Probably while Benny watches him fuck up into his own fist. 

 

Ben touches his arm and it’s unsettling as it is thrilling, even still. “You...didn’t...”

 

Ben is talking about his boner. Ben is talking about his boner all shy-like, like he hasn’t seen seen a drag queen shove a Xanax up Klaus's ass. Ben is fucking adorable.  He looks down at his dick, prominent and dressed to the left. “Eh. It’ll keep.”

 

“Klaus.”

 

Klaus steps back, just enough to put a little space between Ben and the erection in question. “I mean, feel free to give me a handy, but Diego is totally watching and it’ll look pretty weird if my dicks waggin’ in the wind. My o-face is _not_ subtle.” Ben flickers again, but Klaus still sees pink steal across his cheeks. “It'll keep,” he says again. “I’m in no rush.” _I’ll wait,_ he doesn’t say.  Doesn’t need too. Ben gets it. Klaus can wait until his dead, sixteen but not sixteen year old brother is ready to touch his dick. He’s not gonna rush him. Klaus is a fucking gift, like that.

 

Ben side eyes him a little, as he comes back into view. He looks a little devious, a little _smirky_. “Diego could...”

 

“Oh please - Diego is even less ready to touch my dick than you are, Benny-boy. At least you know you want too”

 

Ben doesn't argue that, and it's only because he's this close to post-orgasm. “You could----” _Find someone else._

 

“I’m good,” Klaus cuts him off. “You can watch me jerk off later.”  He can tell by the way Ben looks down very suddenly that the thought alone, the promise, was enough to get him going again. Get him hot again. Get him hard, _again_ , already. Fuck. He really is just too easy.  Klaus laughs, and throws an arm up over Ben's shoulder. He isn't sure if Diego can see Ben right now, but he’s never let looking like a lunatic stop him from doing anything, and so he won’t let it stop him from touching up on his brother.

 

Diego doesn’t startle as they approach the car. Ben ghosts himself into the back seat, clearly invisible to all that aren’t Klaus.  Klaus opens the passenger side door, but doesn’t climb in. No - he’s gonna make Diego look at his boner first. Ben looks very unamused and Diego just looks downright squirrely, all wide-eyed and twitchy. “It's $10 for a BJ, $12 for an HJ, $15 for a ZJ.”

 

Diego looks away from Klaus’ dick, blinking a little like he isn’t even sure what's happening. Klaus is use to seeing that expression on people. “What’s a ZJ?”

 

Climbing into the car, he laughs. “If you have to ask, you can’t afford it.”

**Author's Note:**

> didja get that reference at the end?  
> Super Troopers is a gift.


End file.
